


December, 17th

by Ailec_12



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Christmas Dinner, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, My British Team is awesome, One Shot, Pre-Iron Man 1, Sort Of, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, post-agent carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailec_12/pseuds/Ailec_12
Summary: December, 1991. Christmas is coming closer and Tony has no intention of spending it with his parents. He is set on going somewhere warmer than New York. However, Jarvis's idea may be even warmer. And who can resist celebrating Christmas in the middle of December? Besides, he has not seen his favourite aunt in some time.





	December, 17th

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written & published in 2016 on FF.

Tony had thought there was no one in the mansion. All the employees were busy at preparing the Christmas party at Washington, DC, so he thought he would have no problem collecting his things and going on an early holiday trip. However, planning was definitely not his strong suit.

“Are you going somewhere, young sir?” He was no longer a child, but the title had stuck with him nevertheless.

Tony spun around, startled, even though it was just Jarvis. The old butler was at the door frame, with a knowing look in his eyes that made it clear he did not really need an answer. He received one anyway.

“Yeah, Jarvis. I’ve heard Los Angeles is a better place to spend the winter.” He tried a lopsided smile. It always worked with everyone around him, but it fell dead against Jarvis’s gaze, inscrutable for him.

“And what about Christmas? There’s only a week left.”

At this, Tony hesitated. His first instinct was to assure he did not care about Christmas, but it would sound as empty as his smile had been. For a few seconds, he attempted to come up with some other flippant excuse, but in the end there was no better reply.

He shrugged off apathetically to give credibility to his answer and turned around to keep putting clothes in a bag.

“Who cares about it? The old folks certainly won’t care whether I’m there or in Europe.”

“Tony, that’s not—”

“Don’t you dare say it isn’t true, Jarvis.” His voice was suddenly full of burning anger. He tightened his fists, making no real effort to sound calmer when he went on. “It is. We’ve both seen it party after party. I even doubt they’d notice at all that I’m not there if I don’t say anything. Which is why I won’t.”

Several seconds of heavy silence ensued. Tony knew he had been harsh on whom deserved nothing of it. Actually, he had been losing his temper with Jarvis more and more lately. He turned to the family’s butler once again, even though he soon realised there were no words left to say.

They were both hurt and neither of them bothered to hide it from the other. However, Jarvis’s protectiveness towards the boy he had seen grow up was far stronger than any negative feeling he might experience. And he would always think first of Tony.

“Do you need help with that?” the older man asked, gesturing to the bags on his desk. To his credit, he sounded neither resigned nor disappointed.

“No, thanks. Almost done,” Tony easily replied. His smile was smaller than those he used to offer the paparazzi, but also softer and full of sincere appreciation. “Jarvis, you’re the best.”

Tony started to zip up his bags, but he was stopped short when he heard some very familiar words. The same words that had always got him out of trouble.

“I may know what we can do.”

If it had been anyone else, Tony would have told them what they could do with their unsolicited advice. But it was Jarvis and he could not help the curiosity and interest that his words sparked.

He looked the man in the eye, silently prompting him to continue.

“I’ve heard Miss Carter is back in the country. Why don’t we call her and have her meet us?”

Tony’s eyes, which had got brighter at the mention of Peggy, became confused.

“Wanna throw me a goodbye party or something like that?”

“I’d think neither you nor Miss Carter is the sort of person who goes to goodbye parties,” stated Jarvis with his usual sharpness. “No, I’m talking about having a Christmas party just the three of us.”

There was a pause —one of those rare occasions on which Tony was rendered speechless.

“Jarvis, you know she’ll be too busy for parties of any kind,” he tried to refuse once he recovered his voice, although he could not have said why. “Besides, it’s not like I really care about Christmas that much. I’ll be fine with some blonde in Los Angeles.”

Again, he attempted a smirk and, even though that time he was more successful in putting it on, it did not fool Jarvis in the slightest.

“Well, I do care about spending Christmas with you. And she will, too.”

It touched Tony deeper than he would ever feel comfortable to admit. His life after the MIT had not been perfect, but it had been easier than living under Howard’s thumb or at the boarding school. Women may not be the affection he had sought all his life, but it was within reach and so was the freedom to go wherever he pleased. Peggy’s and Jarvis’s love was within reach, too, even if it hurt a little because it was a reminder of his always absent parents. And he still regarded it as more valuable than anyone else’s affection, because it felt free and unconditional as well.

“You’re way too sentimental, old man,” Tony said, while his own smile wavered ever so slightly, “but I guess I can delay my trip a couple of days.”

Jarvis offered him a soft smile in return.

“I’ll call Miss Carter,” the butler said, for even though Tony loved his adoptive aunt dearly, it would be easier for him if he did not have to make the call.

“Okay. Tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yes, I’ll have everything ready by tomorrow evening. Your parents are scheduled to arrive the next day, so I don’t think there will be any problem.”

“I hope so,” muttered Tony, trying not to let himself become gloomier at the mention of his parents’ arrival.

* * *

Of course, Peggy Carter agreed immediately. She did not use to let any chance to see Tony pass by.

Truthfully, he could have arranged everything for dinner within the same day, but he had a powerful reason to require an extra day. Christmas would not be Christmas without presents. Peggy had agreed with him, but had refused to let out even a hint of what she had thought to bring as a gift for Tony.

And so, the morning of the 16th, Edwin Jarvis got out of the mansion on his own with the perfect present in mind.

It could seem difficult to go gift shopping for someone who had everything money could buy. However, it was not so. Tony was grateful for any present that showed it had been bought or made thinking of him.

Jarvis had been reflecting on what to give him all the previous evening and night. He knew Tony was extremely proud of his robot Dum-E, which he had made some months ago. From that thought, he obtained his idea.

He printed a photo of him and a nine-year-old Tony with one of the engines he had built at the time. Tony wore a Christmas sweater and, despite hating that sort of clothing, he had a big grin on his face. For the second part of his gift, Jarvis would have liked to knit another Christmas sweater, but there was not enough time and, in the end, he had chosen to buy one. Yet, this last item was not intended to be for Tony, but Dum-E.

On an impulse, besides a child-sized sweater, he also bought a matching hat. That, together with the framed photograph, would surely make a decent present despite the little time he had had. At least, Jarvis hoped it would make Tony smile.

Even if he never tired of repeating how little he cared about Christmas, right after lunch the boy helped him get the huge living room ready for when Peggy would show up. Neither of them knew when she would arrive exactly. Jarvis did know that Tony had tried to find out, but not even hacking could tell him where the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was currently.

Peggy arrived a few hours later, at a fashionable time for dinner. As elegantly dressed as always, she did not carry anything with her, so Tony’s gift must be in her handbag. Upon seeing each other, both her smile and the young inventor’s were equally bright.

“Auntie Peggy!” he exclaimed cheerfully.

They hugged each other tightly. The emotion in their embrace brought Jarvis a painful memory of Peggy and Howard in a similar position. Nevertheless, it was delightful to see their dynamic. There were few people around whom Tony allowed himself to relax, but only with Peggy Carter would he let himself go completely and enjoy life as any young man should.

“Hi, Tony. I’ve missed you so much,” she replied, still not letting him go.

When she finally did, the director turned to look at who had been her partner in crime for a while.

“Nice to see you, too, Mr. Jarvis. I can’t wait to see what you boys have prepared for tonight.”

“Happy to see you, too, Miss Carter. If you’d follow me.” He headed for the living room and smiled when, behind his back, he heard Tony’s chuckle at his pretence of sounding formal.

Peggy let out a gasp as she walked in the room and saw all the Christmas decorations he and Tony had spent the whole afternoon putting up. The place was illuminated by dim lights and the fire burning in the hearth. A few lit candles also contributed to the cosy atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful. Have you really done this in just a day?”

“In an afternoon,” corrected Tony. “Jarvis has been cooking all morning before lunch, but he won’t tell me what he’s made.”

“Well, I think that’s an important question, don’t you, Mr. Jarvis?” She was clearly teasing him, but her questioning look was still impressive. Jarvis, however, was well used to her severe voice in situations when she did mean it, so he just put on a small smirk.

“Of course. Sit down, I’ll bring dinner.”

They did as they were told, chatting all the while. Jarvis noticed that, whereas Peggy had got rid of her coat when she entered, she still had her purse with her.

Several moments later, he came back carrying a succulent roast turkey with potatoes. They were still talking, but Tony interrupted himself to look up at the butler with bright eyes.

“Oh, my God, Jarvis. Please, tell me you’ve made either spotted dick or Christmas pudding for dessert.”

“What would you say if I told you I’ve made both?” he asked, teasingly, as he put the turkey down.

“Damn. I love your Britishness,” moaned Tony dramatically, making Peggy laugh earnestly in return.

They let Jarvis in charge of cutting the turkey. When the three of them were served, they began to eat right away, although their chat did not stop once. Thankfully, no one made the mistake of bringing up sad topics —Peggy did not even ask after Howard and Maria or why Tony was not spending Christmas at home. They had plenty of more interesting things to talk about, and so they did, enjoying every minute of each other’s company in a way they were able to do on scarce occasions.

They were full by the time they finished the main and only course of the dinner. Tony wanted to show Dum-E to Peggy, so they took a break before going for dessert.

“I’ve improved it— _him_ since the last time you saw him. He can recognise my shape now in addition to my voice,” he explained to her as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”

Peggy nodded, smiling, and watched him until he got out. Then, her smile became smaller and the light in her brown eyes dimmed —a perfect mask not quite crumbling.

“How’s he really, Mr. Jarvis?” she asked in a low voice the butler had only heard when her odds in a mission did not look very favourable.

“Better now that he’s had a decent Christmas dinner at least,” the man replied honestly.

She nodded and, then, remained pensive for some seconds.

“We could give him his presents now, before dessert.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” he agreed. There was no further talk about the youngest Stark’s emotional state, because everything Peggy had to say, she had already told his father.

When Tony came back with his robot a few minutes later, they had their presents at hand, although only Jarvis’s were at sight. The boy genius put his creation on the floor near Peggy, slightly confused by the parcels the butler had with him.

“What’s that?” He sounded almost wary.

“Merry Christmas, Tony,” the older man replied, handing him out the wrapped presents.

Without a second thought, he took them, but did not remove the wrapping paper right away. He hesitated for a second before apparently making up his mind and speaking up.

“I... I don’t have anything for you, guys,” was his only answer. All of a sudden, he was visibly embarrassed.

“You’re here,” Peggy cut in, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. “That’s all we want.”

He gave them a shy smile and finally started to unwrap his presents. He could not help a grimace as he saw the Christmas-themed sweater and hat. However, when he took them out and saw how small they were, he gazed up at Jarvis, absolutely puzzled. The butler shot a pointed look at Dum-E.

“We wouldn’t want to run the risk of your newest creation catching a cold, would we?”

When, at last, Tony understood, he let out a loud laugh. Still grinning, he crouched down, dressing Dum-E with the ridiculous clothes. They admired the sight for some seconds, but he still had another present left and, this time, did not take long to remove the bright colourful paper. As he looked over the framed picture, his smile became much softer and he looked his friend in the eye before speaking.

“Thanks, Jarvis. I love it.”

Peggy, who had been watching the entire scene clearly amused, gazed at Jarvis, too. Her eyes shone with approval and fondness. Then, she cleared her throat and took her turn.

“I’ve also got you something.”

Right away, Tony turned to her. She took out a very small object from her handbag and put it on his awaiting open palm before neither of the men could see what it was.

“I know you’ve been having problems to give a voice to Dum-E that doesn’t sound daft. This chip,” she said, pointing to the tiny microchip she had given him, “contains just a small part of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s technology, but I believe it’ll be the little push you need to develop your project.”

Between the portrait and Peggy’s words, Tony’s eyes had become wet. He stared down at the chip in his hand, astonished, and then up at the woman. Words failed him and so, he simply launched forward to hug her.

“Thanks, Auntie Peggy. I’ll put it to good use, I promise.”

“I know you will,” she said, returning the embrace.

He let her go in order to turn to Jarvis. Without another thought, he also gave a quick hug to the older man.

“Thank you for all this.”

Equally awkward, Jarvis returned it as well. As soon as Tony stepped away, he got up.

“I’d better get dessert.”

A minute later, he came back carrying the promised two puddings and Tony’s reaction did not make itself wait.

“I call dibs on setting the Christmas pudding on fire!” he shouted immediately.

“Not a chance,” cut in Peggy, calm and mischievous all at once. “You don’t set a pudding on fire, you flambé it. Besides, I bags it!”

“No way!” the young man protested as she laughed.

Right then, the telephone rang, breaking their argument. Jarvis looked at the clock, which read half past one, and frowned. Who would be calling at such time? It must be important. He was about to go answer the call, but first, he turned towards his dinner company.

“Don’t dare flambé the pudding without me,” he warned, as severe as he could be while gazing at their falsely innocent expressions.

And to think that they were the fearsome director of a secret spy organisation and the playboy in the making who apparently cared for nothing but himself. Incapable of holding back a smile as he walked out of the room, Jarvis finally picked up the telephone and ended its irritating ringing.

He kept hearing Tony and Peggy laughing in the background when he answered. And then, all of a sudden, he stopped hearing them. His mind went blank and blocked out all sounds. Later on, he would not even remember which words had stumbled out of his mouth —he believed he had probably asked for them to repeat what they had just said, so that he could be absolutely certain of having heard right the first time. However, he did remember the exact words the police told him once they checked it was the Stark mansion they were talking to.

“There’s been a car crash near Long Island. I regret to inform neither Howard nor Maria Stark has made it.”

The butler hung up with few words, writing down a direction without being completely aware of why he should do so. Slowly, sounds started coming back to him. Tony and Peggy. They knew nothing, so it fell upon Jarvis to tell them the horrible news. Only one question hammered at his mind —how? As in a daze, he returned to the living room, where the two of them kept fighting over who would set fire to the pudding. They turned towards him at once, ready to go on with their joking, but both of them shut up immediately upon seeing his pale face.

“Jarvis, are you okay?” one of them asked. He could not say who —he felt as if he was going to be sick.

Fortunately, before that might happen, he managed to reach a chair and sat down. He stared at his shaking hands for a few seconds, knowing he could not take long to find the words that would make the others aware of the terrible truth, too —of what had just happened to... He truly did not know if he would find the strength to do so. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up. Both Peggy and Tony were staring back at him, utterly worried.

“There’s been a car crash.” He repeated the words he had been told. “They haven’t made it. Mr. and Mrs. Stark. I’m so sorry, Tony,” he blurted out, unable to keep it inside for another moment.

“What?” the boy —barely a man— cried out. “That can’t be. They were... They were at—”

“They were returning to New York,” cut off Jarvis. It was barely a whisper, but any sound seemed strident in the suddenly stifling quiet of the house.

Tony started to walk up and down nervously and, when Peggy attempted to embrace him, he pushed her away.

“Was he drunk?” he asked, sudden hot anger filling his question. “Why did he always drink so much?”

He ran both hands across his hair desperately, looking like he would collapse at any moment. However, he just faced away from them.

“What are we gonna do now?” he asked, lost and anxious and much, much quieter.

“We need to go to the police. They’ll probably want someone to identify the bodies,” Peggy said, in a very matter-of-fact voice that only tried to cover up her own shock and pain.

No one questioned it when she got into the driver’s seat. Even if it was only on the surface, she was the calmest of the three. Jarvis was sitting in the backseat with Tony, even though the young inventor refused to let anyone near him, either to touch him or to comfort him in any other way.

When they arrived at the morgue, Obadiah Stane was already there. Jarvis and Peggy frowned upon seeing him, since neither of them liked nor trusted the man. Yet, right at the moment, the important thing was Tony, so they both bit back any comments and just decided to ignore how much they disliked the presence of Howard’s partner.

“I can go in,” Peggy offered Tony gently when the medical examiner got out and asked for someone to identify the bodies.

“No, I’ll do it,” the heir to the Stark empire said, managing a somewhat firm voice.

“Tony—” she started, but was cut off.

“I’ll go with you,” Stane offered. Tony agreed with a tiny nod and they got in before Peggy or Jarvis could say anything else.

The two friends looked at each other helplessly. Jarvis started to regret having handled the news so badly. He wanted to believe that Tony was still in shock and that he would have agreed to any of them accompanying him inside, but at the same time he had seen how hard the young man had pushed them away.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity in complete silence. And when Tony finally got out, the situation did not improve.

“How are you?” Peggy asked him softly at once.

Tony did not meet her eyes before answering.

“They don’t know yet if Dad... if Howard was drunk.” It had been a long time since the last time Tony had called Howard ‘dad’ and the pain in his voice had more than one name.

“You’re not alone, Tony,” Peggy stated, in an attempt to reassure him. It had no reaction on the boy’s part, though. Jarvis did not like his aloof attitude at all. It used to be a mask that broke down after just the right words, but right then, the expression on his face looked more permanent than ever.

“I’d rather be alone now, though.”

“All right,” Jarvis said at last. “We can drive you home—”

“No,” Tony cut him off. He did not even sound impatient, but rather like he was stating a fact. “Obie’s already offered me a ride,” he told them, still not looking at anyone directly.

Peggy glared at Stane openly. Her clear disapproval would have made other men think twice about his intentions, but he said nothing. He just put a hand on Tony’s back and led him towards the exit. Jarvis and Peggy could do nothing but watch them, full of impotence —plus hardly restrained anger on the director’s part.

“See ya,” Tony said, barely turning around. He did raise his hand, although that never was how he said goodbye to them.

As he saw the newly orphan go away, Jarvis had the feeling once again that he had failed Tony immensely. The boy was quickly slipping away, out of his reach and before his own eyes. The butler hoped it was not for good, though. Surely there was still hope that the situation could be fixed and, above all, that it would be their support what would be sought later on. Jarvis had never pegged Stane as the sort of man who would selflessly get involved with a troubled young man and, at present, Tony needed trustworthy friends to rely on more than ever.

However, that hope was shattered when, merely months later, the young inventor became the CEO of Stark Industries and Obadiah Stane turned out to be his right-hand man. Jarvis thought he should have seen it coming, but his disdain had blinded him. The man was the only candidate to fill a paternal role that could never be for either his absent father or the family’s butler.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is wondering, spotted dick _is_ a real British dessert! This little detail was inspired by this [gifset](https://ailec-12.tumblr.com/post/128983280141/jamesdarcysource-james-explains-his-hesitancy). I just love these two.  
> I hope you liked it. Looking forward to knowing your thoughts!


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